A Lion's Heart (Hiatus)

A Witch's Lament

Gavaldon was a Village surrounded by thick, mysterious woods. A collection of bright lakeside cottages with waves lapping against their stone walls and sun-drenched turrets gleaming toward the gloomy forest edges. The sounds of hammering echoed through the narrow lanes of the village as fathers reinforced doors and windows, preparing for what was to come. In the bustling town square, the crooked clock tower loomed ominously, its hands ticking down to an event everyone in Gavaldon dreaded.

The air was thick with tension and an unspoken fear that gripped every villager. Mothers hurriedly stuffed scarecrows with straw, placing them strategically around their homes as if these makeshift guardians could protect their children. Boys and girls sat hunched on porches, their noses buried in storybooks, eyes wide and frenzied. They scoured each page as if their lives depended on it, and for all anyone knew, they did. The whispers were on everyone's lips: "The School Master is coming."

Every four years, on the eleventh night of the eleventh month, a mysterious figure known as the School Master would come to Gavaldon and take two children away—one destined for the School for Good and the other for the School for Evil. This tradition, if it could be called that, had persisted for over two centuries. Some years, it was two boys taken, some years, two girls. Sometimes, it was one of each, and their ages varied wildly, from as young as twelve to as old as sixteen. The selection process was as fickle and unpredictable as the magic that surrounded it.

The village had long since abandoned any hope of rescuing those abducted. In the early days, desperate to save their children, the villagers had stormed the forest, only to be repelled by violent storms, floods, and even falling trees. When they finally braved the treacherous path through the woods, they found themselves not in some hidden town but back in Gavaldon, as if the forest itself had bent reality to its will. The woods had made it clear: the children would not be returned. Thus, the villagers had chosen instead to fight, each cycle preparing as best they could.

By the time the sun set, the children were locked away in their homes, peeking through shuttered windows as their fathers, mothers, and grandparents stood guard around the village's perimeter. They carried torches, forming a ring of fire meant to ward off the School Master. Allegra, however, found the entire spectacle ridiculous. Her mother, Callis, often laughed at the villagers' futile attempts to stop a force far beyond their understanding. Callis, known by many as a witch, was a unique individual, often mocked by the villagers for her strange ways and cryptic sayings. But Allegra was used to her mother's oddities and the villagers' scorn.

Unlike the other children, Allegra wasn't frightened of the School Master or the schools he represented. She was too preoccupied with other matters, primarily her best friend, Leonora. With her striking purple eyes and quiet demeanour, Leonora was a constant source of fascination and affection for Allegra. She had always felt a deep connection to Leonora, one that transcended the typical bounds of friendship. Leonora's presence was a comfort, a constant in a world full of uncertainties.

However, Leonora's interactions with the village's young men were less pleasant. Allegra often watched with a growing sense of frustration as boys like the Fletcher boy persistently sought Leonora's attention. His relentless advances were a nuisance, and the pressure from the village elders to find a suitable match for Leonora was mounting. It seemed everyone had an opinion on who Leonora should marry, all eager to see her settled with a "respectable" husband. Allegra, however, was resolute in her desire to protect Leonora from such advances. She couldn't stand the thought of Leonora being forced into a life she didn't want, with someone who didn't truly know her.

Allegra's feelings toward Leonora were complicated. While she cherished their friendship, she also harboured deeper, unspoken emotions. Leonora, with her striking purple eyes and quiet demeanour, was a constant source of fascination and affection for Allegra. These feelings were a confusing mix of protectiveness, admiration, and something more profound that Allegra struggled to name. It was in these quiet moments of reflection, when the village was abuzz with fear and anticipation of the School Master's arrival, that Allegra felt the weight of her emotions most acutely. The thought of losing Leonora to some suitor or, worse, to the School Master filled her with dread.